


Colour Me in Love

by imheresempiternally



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 17-Year-Old Harry, Age Difference, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Sentimental, Sexual Content, Teenage One Direction, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:36:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imheresempiternally/pseuds/imheresempiternally
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a world where you can't see color until you meet the one you were destined to be with. </p><p>or seventeen year old harry and 23 year old louis in an AU :))))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colour Me in Love

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is an idea that I found on Tumblr, so if you recognize this idea kind of, no it is not entirely mine. But, I am putting a little spin on it, so it will all be okay in the end. dont get too butthurt over it. no biggie, okie dokie?  
> anyway, im actually trying to make this story really good. so, if you have any suggestions, tips, or corrections, send 'em on my way and I will consider them/fix my mistakes. :D thank you, thank you.
> 
> yes, i know this first part is short. they will not all be like that.

Falling in love is supposed to mean something. It’s supposed to mean more than just a four letter word you say to someone every so often just to satisfy their thirst for attention. Their craving of importance. Just to remind them that you haven’t forgotten that they exist, and that that four letter word once meant something real. To the both of you.

If you look up the definition of love, you see it means ‘an intense feeling of deep affection,’ synonyms being fondness, tenderness, warmth, intimacy, so on and so forth. If you reread that definition again, you see none of the previous mentioned reasons.

You could even look at definition number two, where it clearly says, ‘a person or thing that one loves,’ which is more of a pet name you would give said person, but it means kind of the same thing nonetheless. If you’re feeling a little risky, turn the word L-O-V-E into a verb. Now the definition changes. ‘feel a deep romantic or a sexual attachment to (someone).’

Read all of those definitions once. Twice. Three times over, and then tell me  ‘love’ is a word you can just throw out into the air every ten minutes to make sure your ‘significant other’ doesn’t get up and leave because they didn’t get what they wanted out of the relationship. Affection, compliment, love.

That’s why I’m glad that the world is the way it is. See, I have a theory. In the movies, things aren’t the way they are here in the real world. People don’t see colours whenever they find their true match. They have absolutely no way of knowing whether they were made for the person they fancy. Half of the movies Louis likes to make me watch are about sappy love stories where a teenage girl meets the bloke of her dreams and they fall in love after going through many, many, obstacles. After he supposedly cheats on her. After she apparently goes through a hormonal stage and decides she wants nothing to do with boys. After her dad gets cancer and dies and she destroys a piano. They go through so much shit, and then end up together. I’ve began to be able to predict them all, by the way.

But as I have said, I have theories. I don’t think Warner brothers can just pull such complex and extravagant ideas like that right out of their asses, grab some celebrities, slap a title on it and call it a day. No way. There is no way that anyone in the human race has a brain like that. Can work out all these details, all these aspects of a realistically made up world and put them all together without having some sort of help or inspiration.

But that’s just me, you know?

I believed at one point, everyone saw the world in colour. Everyone was foolish when it came to relationships and love. No one even cared if their love was real. They found someone that liked the idea of them and thought they had a nice appearance. That was love to them.

Then, something happened, of course. Something happened that made the world the way it is now. Some sort of mutated gene, maybe, that made people unable to see in colour for a short part of their lives until they found the one they were made for. Their other half, as we call them. It’s a complicated process, I suppose, so we won’t get into that today. Something about dopamine and your brain as it sends strong signals to the rest of your body, and somehow, that’s whenever colour begins to make it’s way into your life. Colour. The only thing that means anything to me in this world anymore.

If I haven’t explained this well enough, which I don’t think I have, here is what I’m getting at. When a child is born, their ability to see isn’t very great. For weeks and weeks their vision begins to become clear. Little by little. Eventually, at three months, give or take a few weeks, that baby can now see. But, they can only see certain colours. Those colours being black and white. That little baby goes through their little lives, only seeing those two colors. They can’t see the vibrant red of the balloon they get at a carnival, or the nasty green colour of their snot whenever they’re sick. They can see the glowing skin of their momma after she gets a good morning kiss and a cuppa from daddy every day. They live that way until they find someone important to them. Someone who completes their life. Literally. That usually happens in the range of 20-30 years of age.

Unless you’re lucky ol’ me, and you meet your better half at only seventeen years.

If I could go back and changed how things happened? Probably not. I don’t care that I met my love at seventeen. I don’t care if he was five years older than me, still is. I also don’t care that my poor old mother didn’t approve of us. Well it’s a good thing that she wasn’t being forced to date an older man, because it’s honestly none of her business.

People tell me that I was young. Innocent and naive. But in reality, I had a perfect amount of control with the situation. He wasn’t pushing me to do anything I didn’t want to do. He knew when to stop, when to hold me, when to hurt me, if you know what I’m saying. He knew.. Me, really. That’s all I asked for, and my boy gave it to me. So fuck the system, you know? Fuck it.

People ask me a lot how it felt whenever I first felt the connection with him. I wish I could explain it to them. To everyone, really. Everyone needs to know how amazing and complete you feel whenever the colours are brought to your world for the first time. It’s like you have a permanent shock going through your body. And whenever they’re close to you.. With skin on skin and in the most intimate ways.. it feels amazing. Colours are brighter than ever, your body tingles, your vision blurs.. it’s all so surreal and overwhelming, almost. But I wouldn’t change it. Not for a single thing.

I will be telling you about the boy who brought the colours into my world.

-H


End file.
